


Into My Arms

by islasands



Series: Lambski [31]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Angels, Everlasting Love, Fate, Love, M/M, beliefs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-01
Updated: 2012-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-30 15:11:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/333094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/islasands/pseuds/islasands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam is home after being away for a few weeks. He is relaxing while Sauli prepares their evening meal. Like a guttering candle flame the pleasures of domestic intimacy fluctuate with the shadows of knowing his love for Sauli,- in a world that for so many is not only loveless but holds no hope of ever finding love's shelter and safety,- is fortunate, a gift of grace borne on the wind...</p><p>I wrote this listening to Nick Cave singing his beautiful song, "Into My Arms". You might like to play it as you read...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into My Arms

Into My Arms

  
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

  


  


Adam was in the sitting room, sitting in an armchair which occasionally gave him a view of Sauli moving about in the kitchen preparing the evening meal. Outside the open doors the evening sky, having dressed for the occasion, was arrayed in grey and pink tie-dyed silk, with a yellow satin border where it touched the hills.  Adam’s hands, at peace for the first time in weeks, lay on the arms of the chair. His hair, normally standing on the ends of his thoughts, had collapsed over his brow. He listened to the sounds of tap water running, metal on metal, chopping sounds, the door of the refrigerator, opening and closing.  The air extractor began to whirr. Sauli swore at something. Cooking smells drifted into his nostrils. He closed his eyes.

_He was heading down a river that was in flood. His craft was not a boat but a house which had come free from its foundations, all of a piece, as though from moorings. It bobbed along nicely and as they passed other floating houses Adam felt relieved that their situation was neither unique nor dangerous. The houses that floated past them had people sitting on their porches, or leaning out upstairs windows, or picking herbs from window box gardens outside their kitchens. Music floated from their open doors._

_If Sauli was talking in his ear right now he would say something about the river of destiny. He believed in fate, believed if you trusted it fully without any secret reservations, in the end it would carry you to a landing where love was waiting, dangling its feet in the water, and it would look up at you, meet your eyes, and something would just ‘click’. Adam professed similar beliefs but knew deep down he did harbour reservations. Fate sometimes needed a helping hand. Fate could be fickle, taking with one hand while giving with the other. The world’s inhabitants were living proof that fate could be unkind. It hurt to think of that._

_The river had narrowed to a channel’s width and their floating house sped up to accommodate the water’s compressed currents. Trees joined hands over their rooftop. It was like moving along a tree-lined avenue. Sunlight dappled the walls of the house. The fragrance of foliage mingled with that of water. Music suddenly began to play in the room behind him. He heard footsteps. He braced himself for joy._

_Sauli came to his side, took his arm and placed it around his shoulders._

_Adam placed his free hand on his chest. He wanted to protect his feelings, hold them in check, prevent them escaping, - and this was despite the intolerable pressure they caused, careening inside him like a thousand birds wheeling in the sky of his heart._

_Sauli leaned his head on his shoulder._

_“Is this one about me?” he asked, referring to the song that was playing._

_“They’re all about you,” Adam said, holding him tighter and turning his head so that his lips could feel the silky touch of his curls._

“Dinner, my love,” a voice said. He opened his eyes. Sauli was kneeling in front of him. He had placed his hands over Adam’s hands. For a moment Adam was still on the river of his dream. The floor was swimming. His chair was floating. A feeling of weakness permeated his transition from sleep to wakefulness. He had to wait until it subsided before he could withstand the blueness of Sauli’s steadfast expression.

They decided to take their meals outside. It was cold and they sat opposite one another wearing beanies, and jackets, and fingerless gloves. The candle they kept lighting kept going out.  Adam watched the final dying moments of the sun’s setting. A brilliant orange licked across the tops of the hills as though it was orange lightning. Tears welled up. For some reason he was acutely aware of the fact that people were suffering when he himself was not. People were drowning in the river of destiny and their dying, as their living, was not accompanied by music, laughter or the sharing of a meal and a view. Their candles just kept going out.

Sauli felt his eyes upon his profile and turned to look at him. Adam held out his arms and he got up immediately and went and sat on his knee and put both arms around his neck.  

“Do you believe in angels?” Adam said.

“Do you?” Sauli asked.

“No,” Adam said, shortly. “No,” he repeated. He pulled Sauli closer.

“I do,” Sauli said firmly. “But not picture book ones, not ones with wings.”

“How do they get around, then?” Adam asked.

Sauli thought about it. “They live in the wind,” he said.

Adam smiled. “You make it all up as you go along,” he said.

“So does the wind,” Sauli said, and Adam couldn’t argue with that.

And as though to verify the truth of what Sauli had said, the wind came up the valley and swirled around them, touching  their cheeks and hands with its cold breath, and taking them fleetingly into the lightness of its arms.

“Into my arms,” it murmured both to them and to the candle flame that at long last had taken root..

 

 


End file.
